


What This Is (is love)

by crazygirlne



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: 5+1, F/M, Fake Marriage, Fluff, Love, Real Marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-07
Updated: 2019-04-07
Packaged: 2020-01-06 13:04:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18388988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazygirlne/pseuds/crazygirlne
Summary: Five times Wyatt and Lucy pretend they're married (and one time they actually are).





	What This Is (is love)

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, a few notes. First, I think I've recovered enough from my concussion to work on things outside of my little collection, but if I'm wrong on that, just tell me and I'll go back to silly stuff a while longer.
> 
> Second, I don't know whether I've ever done a 5+1 fic before, but it fit for my still-short attention span.
> 
> Third, hi, new fandom! In case you're not familiar with my stuff, I don't tolerate bashing or hate, not of characters or ships, whether they're ones I like or not. Comments are otherwise welcome and appreciated. I love you already!
> 
> And finally, this fic takes place over and beyond the two seasons, but mostly during missions we never saw happen and probably didn't exist and, therefore, change canon some.

1

The first time they pretend to be married, Lucy is annoyed. 

Oh, it's her idea, the only way they're going to blend in here in this place and time, but she's still annoyed.

She hasn't told Wyatt everything Flynn revealed, and she's still adjusting to having a fiance back home, one she doesn't even know. On top of that, Wyatt seems a little off, distracted, and she's pretty sure he's thinking about Jessica.

Not that Lucy blames him for that. She's often preoccupied thinking about Amy, and even though they lost very different loved ones in very different ways, she gets the distraction, logically.

She still annoyed though, because now they have to be all lovey dovey. It's not a time period where they're expected to show much PDA, at least, but that almost makes it worse.

She thinks it would be easier to ignore a meaningless kiss than it would be to ignore the way Wyatt's eyes keep finding hers, the way that soft smile tugs at his lips, the way his fingers brush hers almost absently.

Rufus is standing in a corner. Lucy hates that he has to be a servant, but at least he gets to stay close this time. She joins him, nodding wordlessly to Wyatt at his unspoken question.

She's fine, just needs a minute.

He smiles at her again, and she ignores the fluttering in her stomach.

“Hey," Rufus greets her once she's in easy earshot, nobody else around. “You and Wyatt finally made up, huh?"

Lucy blinks, tearing her eyes from Wyatt, who is laughing at some joke of their host's, and glances over at Rufus.

“What do you mean?"

“You've been acting like you're fighting,” he says as if it's obvious. "Now you're back to acting like you actually like each other. I'm glad.”

Lucy opens her mouth, then closes it without responding. Rufus doesn't seem to be expecting a response, and besides…

How in the world is she supposed to respond to the fact that her and Wyatt looking at each other like they're ridiculously fond of one another, like they're  _ married, _ is what Rufus thinks is normal for them?

She's so busy trying to think of anything else that she forgets to be annoyed the rest of the mission. 

2

The next time they pretend to be married, it's because they're going along with an assumption. 

It's easier, they've found, letting people draw their own conclusions sometimes. Obviously there are times the team needs to make a specific impression, but when they want to blend in, they don't try to argue.

So when the man speaking to Wyatt addresses Lucy as Wyatt's wife, Wyatt follows the cue without consulting her. They know each other well enough by this point, all three of them, that they can do this, can pick a ruse and know the other two have their back.

Lucy doesn't object, then, when Wyatt wraps a possessive arm around her waist, despite the fact that she feels herself warm at his touch. She keeps up with the conversation somehow, even helps steer it in the direction they need, securing them a couple of beds for the night.

Internally, she's scolding herself. Since pretending to be together for Bonnie and Clyde, things have been a bit too raw, too real at times. She hasn't been able to ignore her attraction to Wyatt as well as before.

It's hard to pretend they're only teammates when she's fallen asleep to the memory of his kiss, of how his voice sounds when he's tired in bed.

But  _ this _ is the pretend. This, his arm around her and his eyes sparkling down at her, the lack of objection to sharing a bed.

“You alright?" Wyatt murmurs as they climb into said bed later that night. There's enough room they don't have to touch, but Lucy can feel the concern in him as he rests a hand briefly on her shoulder.

Lucy exhales, releasing the tension she hadn't realized had coiled so tightly. “I'm fine," she says.

And somehow, in the stiff bed with Wyatt, scratchy covers pulled up to their chests, her shoulder still warm from his touch, she thinks she actually means it.

3

“This is my husband," Lucy says, threading her arm through Wyatt's, "James.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Van Der Beek." The gentleman's interested suspicion fades as he looks between them.

It's getting almost easy to pretend Wyatt is her husband, but Lucy refuses to overthink it. They've been close lately, teetering on the edge of…

Something. She's not overthinking it.

She flirts heavily with Wyatt throughout the party, and he returns the favor. They both startle some when Rufus reminds the two of them they're actually there for a reason other than foreplay.

Lucy ignores the implication that the flirting is ever going to lead anywhere and gets to work. They stop Rittenhouse just in time, and when they get back in the Lifeboat, it's with an air of triumphant relief.

Lucy has gotten better at strapping herself in, but something about the night has made her clumsy.

“Let me help you with that, Mrs. Van Der Beek.”

Lucy looks up at Wyatt in time to catch his smirk. She almost misses Rufus's exasperated sigh entirely.

4

She's in a bar in her present. It's been a lot lately, everything, and Lucy is only just accepting that she might honestly never see her sister again, might be the only person who ever remembers Amy. She isn't up for drinking in the bunker, doesn't feel like dealing with the pitying looks.

The bar is run down and dark, but at least she can drink in peace.

For a little while, anyway. The man who slumps down beside her reeks of sour beer and is just a little too close.

“Hey, darlin’," he says in something approaching a slur. "Want some company?"

“No, thank you." Lucy catches the bartender's eye, sees that the man is watching the situation, knows that he'll step in if she indicates she needs it. It's nice knowing she's not in any immediate danger, but she really doesn't want to make a scene. She just wants to drink in peace.

“You sure about that?" he presses, leaning toward her just the tiniest bit.

Lucy stiffens, but before she can decide how to respond, she feels an arm wrap around her shoulders from her other side, comforting, familiar to a degree it probably shouldn't be.

Wyatt's lips brush her cheek as he settles himself on the bar stool next to her. “Hey, babe," he says, easy. "Sorry I'm late.”

"You're right on time,” she says, turning to him with a smile, leaning into the arm that's still around her. She silently asks him to play along, despite the fact that he's the one who started this game, and she sees nothing but support in his eyes. Lucy turns back to the stranger on her other side. “Sorry, I was just waiting for my husband."

The man mutters some excuse and gets down from the stool. Wyatt keeps his arm around Lucy until the guy leaves the bar, at which time they relax. Wyatt squeezes Lucy's arm once, reassuring, before he lets go.

“I can leave," he offers immediately. "I know you wanted to be alone. I was just checking on you and saw how uncomfortable you looked, so--”

"So you decided to be my husband?" She's sure the tired smile on her lips helps make it clear she's not upset with him, but he still looks worried. “Stay,” she says quietly. She's had just enough to drink that it's easy to continue. “Being with you is better than being alone."

His smile is soft, affectionate, and as he nods and orders a drink of his own, Lucy thinks that whatever they've been dancing around is finally going to make itself known.

Not tonight, she thinks, but very soon.

5

It's both easier and harder pretending they're married once they're actually together, after Hollywood and everything that follows it.

The physical intimacy is easier, the loving looks less awkward or heart wrenching.

However, it complicates things because Lucy knows now, for sure, that she  _ wants _ to marry Wyatt, but they haven't actually discussed it, and here they are playing Mr. and Mrs. Smith.

Her skirts are huge, and when Wyatt takes her hand, the cloth hides it from prying eyes as he slips cool metal on to her left ring finger. She stops mid-sentence, looking at Wyatt in surprise, only returning to the conversation when he grins at her and jerks his head back toward their person of interest.

“I'm sorry," Lucy apologizes, trying and failing to remember where she was. “What was I saying?"

The couple in front of them, newlyweds, Lucy remembers, take a moment to smile knowingly at each other before looking back at Lucy and Wyatt.

“We were just inviting you to dine with us," says the man, whose name Lucy can't remember, too much of her attention focused on the feel of Wyatt stroking a ring on her finger.

Rufus accepts for the three of them, covering for their distraction, and Lucy pulls herself together until dinner.

They're about halfway through before she gets a chance to look at her hand. She can feel Wyatt's eyes on her as she takes it in, the strip of metal with delicate stones set into the band, simple and able to pass for either wedding band or engagement ring.

It's definitely modern, not something he brought as a costume accessory to blend in.

She swallows hard and looks up at him.

“Wyatt," she whispers, but she doesn't get any further before there's a commotion and they're forced to snap back into mission mode.

On the walk back to the ship, Rufus is a saint; he looks between them, then takes the lead, walking far enough ahead to give them privacy.

Lucy isn't sure where to start, but when Wyatt takes her hand, it's like the floodgates open.

“What the hell, Wyatt?" She thinks the way his eyes widen is almost comical, but she pushes forward. “Why did you have this? What's going on? Why would you take me off guard like that during a mission?”

They're still walking, but slowly, colorful leaves crunching beneath their feet.

Wyatt takes a second. “That's not the reaction I was expecting." He sounds almost amused, and Lucy glares at him.

"Reaction to  _ what, _ Wyatt? You can't just put a ring on my finger without telling me why you even have it!”

He takes her hand, the one sporting the ring in question, and gently tugs her to a stop. She faces him, ire and confusion fading at his expression, which is pure and unmistakable love.

Maybe just a dash of nerves.

“I've had the ring for a while now," he says. “Saw it and thought of you. And then I thought… I realized that I could care about you when we were pretending we were together. I thought it would fit if I waited until the next time that happened before I proposed.”

"Is that what this is?” Lucy asks, throat tight with emotion. “A proposal?"

Wyatt's lips pull up to one side, and he takes her other hand. “Piss poor job I'm doing of it if you're not even sure.” Lucy's breath catches as he kneels in front of her.

"Lucy Preston, will you marry me?"

(+1)

“Yes, ma'am." Wyatt’s voice rumbles with affection, and Lucy's response is automatic rather than actual objection. His hands are at her hips, his blue eyes fixed on hers, his face clean-shaven to complement his tux.

“Don't call me ma'am." Her lips twitch as she looks up at him, and he pulls her closer, the white fabric of Lucy's dress whispering as she moves. Her face tilts toward his, almost instinct.

“Yes," he corrects, gaze dropping to her lips, “ _ wife _ ." One of his hands makes its way behind her neck, fingers sliding through her hair as he urges her closer.

The urging isn't really necessary. Lucy presses her lips to his, revelling in the fact that she's kissing her husband.

And this time, it's not to save their lives or to accomplish a mission or to chase off unwanted attention.

This time, it's for real.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to GoingToTheTardis for the eyes on!


End file.
